


Mariah Carey Has Never Been More Right

by Betweenthepies (Reikiari)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Shitty swearing, fluff in general, gift related stress, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 06:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17136686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reikiari/pseuds/Betweenthepies
Summary: For the first time in a while, Eric isn't stressed about the holidays. Instead, it's Shitty's turn.





	Mariah Carey Has Never Been More Right

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WrathoftheStag (Mwuahna)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mwuahna/gifts).



> Swawesome Santa gift for WrathoftheStag  
> Sorry it is so late!  
> Thanks to Ria for grammar beta!

_“I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need…”_

Eric hummed along with Mariah Carey, nodding to the fast-paced bop as it made its way through the Haus. Bowl full of batter in hand, he let his mind wander as he leaned back on the kitchen counter. He liked to think of himself as a simple kind of person. He didn’t need anything special for the holidays – though who really wouldn’t appreciate another Beyoncé poster? Honestly, he just needed time with loved ones, a good kitchen for some classic holiday baking, and most importantly, for fall term exams to end. In Eric’s opinion, whoever scheduled the American Studies exams at the very end of the exam period was a joy-hating monster. With two exams remaining on the horizon, it meant that he would be around campus until only a few days before Christmas.

The Haus was oddly quiet, though with most of its residents gone, it was to be expected. Ollie and Wicks, being in their final year, had little to no exams. Both had skipped town a few days after the last scheduled practice and headed south for a ‘swawesome bro trip’ before heading home. Nursey had lucked out on his schedule and finished within the first week, leaving for home shortly after. Chowder, due for a flight home together with Farmer, was in the midst of packing, having finished his set of fall exams. Dex would be with Eric until the end, citing some repairs he wanted to get done before the new year.

Eric found that he missed the background noise, though less people in the Haus meant less interruptions to his baking and his recording. As much as he loved his hausmates, he was lucky to film in under 10 takes or even get through one uninterrupted batch of cookies when they were around.

“Bitty! Have you seen my battery pack? I can’t find it!” Chowder shouted from upstairs, clearly not yet ready for his flight.

“I put it back on your dresser after I borrowed it!” Eric replied.

“Check the floor!” came Dex’s voice.

“Got it! Thanks Bitty, thanks Dex!”

Smiling to himself, Eric looked down at the bowl in his arms. The flour had been perfectly incorporated and the batter was ready to go. Eric set it down and was about to reach for his parchment-lined baking sheet when Rick Astley interrupted the holiday tunes. Confused, Eric wiped his hands on a nearby towel and went to pick up the call. He wasn’t expecting a call, and certainly not from Shitty. Eric brought his phone up to his ear and grabbed his mug with his other hand, deciding that a break was in order. He pulled a chair away from the table and sat down, gently placing the mug on the table top as he answered the call. “Hello?”

“BITTY, SAVE ME!”

Eric held his phone a little further from his ear while he adjusted the in-call volume. “And just what can I do for you, Mr. Knight?”

“The fuck do I get Lardo and her family for non-denominational December celebrations?!” asked Shitty, sounding extremely flustered, “I’m at the mall and I’m so lost, brah. She’s inviting me over for her family celebrations because we’re sure as hell not going to the Knight Family Bitchfest and I don’t know what to show up with or what to get her this year because we’re slightly more official than last year but like also not and I don’t know what I’m saying anymore, help me.”

Eric sighed and sipped his tea, noticing that it had gone a little cooler than he liked to take it.

“Has Lardo said anything about presents in particular?” Knowing his friend, Lardo had most likely already told Shitty not to fuss over presents.

“She said not to bust my brains over it,” said Shitty, and Eric gives himself a mental high-five, “but I really want to, you know? And I really want her family to like me.”

“Shitty, y’all know that Lardo doesn’t really care about presents and all that,” said Eric, thinking back to the birthday kegster they had thrown Lardo in her senior year and how she’d been extremely happy with just the fact that they’d all tried really hard to beat her at flip cup and no one had been able to.

“Yeah, but I still want to get something!” With how adamant Shitty sounded, Eric knew he wasn’t going to be able to change the other man’s mind. The most he could do would be to help ease Shitty’s stress.

“Now, I don’t know any family who don’t like a good gift basket – though maybe not a cheese one if they’re as lactose intolerant as she is,” suggested Eric, setting down his mug in favour of drumming his fingers on the table top. He himself was spending the holidays with Jack, who was scheduled to pick him up sometime after his last exam and the start of the NHL Christmas break. Alicia and Bob were coming down from Montreal, and they’d only agreed to let Eric cook on the condition that he not get them anything else as a gift. Jack had ensured him that he didn’t need to do anything more than be there, that Eric being in his life was already the greatest gift he could have received, to which Eric had blushed and given his sap of a boyfriend a quick peck on the lips. He and Jack had agreed to not spend anything on presents for each other this year, and so Eric realised that he hadn’t thought about the holiday beyond planning the menu of a dinner for four.

“Okay, so like a chocolate gift basket? Maybe wine? Or a fruit arrangement?” asked Shitty, still sounding panicked over the tinny connection. “I’m standing in front of a soap gift basket – do you think they use soap?”

“Shitty, just ask Lardo about her family,” Eric replied, recalling the first time he’d baked for the Zimmermanns. He’d grilled Jack about tastes, preferences, and potential allergies until it was borderline obsessive. Jack had sat him down on the couch and held him until Eric had calmed realised what he’d been doing. “No one knows more about them than her.”

“Okay fine, but what about Lardo? I know she likes art, ducks, and drinking games.” Shitty had presumably left the store as Eric heard the background noise grow louder, the amount of  screaming children increasing. “But like, that’s so unique that even Hot Topic won’t have something for that and we all know I’m not the artistic one and I can’t make anything.”

“Shitty, she’ll like anything you give her unless it’s a frilly pink tutu or somethin’, and even then she’d probably turn it into an art piece and thank you for getting it,” said Eric, in hopes of finally getting through to his friend. The other man exhaled heavily through the receiver, and for a few moments Eric heard nothing but the surrounding mall-goers that were milling around his friend.

“Bits, I really don’t want to mess this up. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Eric rolled his eyes. “Bless your heart if you think she’s going to leave if you give her nothing or a bad present, Shitty Knight. Lardo is the last person on this Earth that you have to worry about for something like this, you hear me?”

“Yeah bro, loud and clear,” said Shitty. “Man, what was I thinking? I’ve driven to the mall after tutorial almost every day for this for the past two weeks.”

“You were thinking that you really want to do something nice for Lardo,” Eric leaned back in his chair, glad that he got his friend to calm down. “Darlin’, even if you draw her a picture of a duck and it’s the ugliest thing ever she’ll still get a good laugh out of it and for her that ain’t bad at all.”

“OH MY SHIT YOU GAVE ME THE BEST IDEA BITTY I LOVE YOU I’M GOING HOME RIGHT NOW. BYE LOVE YOU, MUAH.”

As Shitty hung up on him, Eric could do nothing but shake his head in amusement. Eric trusted that whatever crazy idea Shitty had, it would make Lardo happy. He was not worried at all. Putting his phone down, he turned his attention back to the abandoned bowl of batter that sat on the counter. He rolled up his sleeves and stood. If he wanted to get this batch done and cooled before Chowder had to leave for the airport, he’d have to get back to work.

 

\--

 

The morning of Christmas Eve, Eric woke up in Jack’s bed, warm under the sheets. Everything was alright with the world - he was done with exams, he was with his boyfriend, and the kitchen was filled with ingredients in preparation for Alicia and Bob’s arrival. He reached for his phone on the nightstand, blearily checking his notifications. Among the notifications on the screen, he noticed that he’d been tagged in an Instagram post. Opening the app, Eric could not help but laugh. It was a picture of Shitty and Lardo holding a framed puck while Shitty kissed the top of Lardo’s head. The disproportionately large frame was covered in drawings of purple, yellow, and red ducks, all wearing sunglasses; above the puck, the words ‘ _1s_ _t_ _puck deflected using clipboard, suck it Chow bet you can’t do that :P_ ’ was written in Shitty’s scrawl using permanent marker. Each member of the team was tagged as a duck, and Lardo herself was tagged as the puck.

Eric scrolled through the comments, reading them and continuing to giggle before typing out his own.

 **@knightinshittyarmor** *hockey playing duck emoji*

 **@a.birkenstock** GOAT we are not worthy

 **@jstnolu** lmao @ch.chow55 @olzomeara get wrecked my dudes lol

 **@ch.chow55** I yield to @duanwithyourshit i bow down to the GOAT

 **@duanwithyourshit** @olzomeara thnks fr th mmrs

 **@olzomeara** sugar we’re going down swingin (a stick) FT ur safe tho I promise

 **@dee_nicest** @wicksper I’m using you as a shield if ollie’s a liar

 **@wicksper** (he) yeet

 **@omgcheckplease** Samwell Hall of Famer right here yall <3

Putting his phone down and turning, Eric realised that his boyfriend was not in the bed beside him, where he’d expected him to be. “Jack?” he called out, confused, “Jack, honey, where are you?”

“Come out here, Bits,” Eric heard in response. The bedroom door was open, and from what Eric could put together in his sleep-addled mind, Jack was probably out in the living room. Eric swung his legs out from under the covers and stood up, giving his shoulders a good roll and stretch before making his way to the door. About to step out into the hallway, Eric was stopped by a photograph on the floor. Bending down to pick it up, he noticed that it was a photo of himself, smiling while looking into the distance. “Honey, what-”

Eric looked up and found a trail of photographs, each of which he was the subject, either alone or with someone else. Each photo was a memory of the year – sometimes he was facing the camera, sometimes it was a photo of his back, sometimes it was a candid or even a selfie that he’d pulled Jack into. Eric could feel his chest tightening and the tears pricking at the back of his eyes.

“I know we said we weren’t getting each other anything, but I just thought I’d give back a little bit of what you’ve given me this year,” said Jack as Eric followed the trail of photos to the table. On the table was a full breakfast along with a plate of cookies, looking slightly browner and lumpier than Eric would have ever made. “I called Suzanne and she said these were your favourite. I tried making them over at Tater’s but they’re nowhere as good as yours, eh? Well, still, Merry Christmas, Bits.”

“Oh, Jack,” was all Eric managed to say before he launched himself at his boyfriend’s chest. He felt the rumble in Jack’s chest as he chuckled, and Eric leaned into the hand that came up to card through his hair. “You can’t do this to me, this is illegal, I swear. You aren’t serious right now.”

“Of course I’m not serious. I’m Jack, remember?”

“Jack Zimmermann, do not dad joke me right now, I am having a moment. Good Lord, you will be the death of me.”

“I hope not. I love you, Eric.”

And that was it, wasn't it? There really wasn't anything more that Eric needed for Christmas. That was all he needed.

“I love you too, Jack.” 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays!


End file.
